Cerulean Skies
by gallaghergirl09
Summary: Fódlan has known over half a decade of peace since its unification under the banner of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. On the eve of a historic union between the Kingdom and one of its neighbors, an ancient enemy launches a bold attack against them. They prepare counter-offensives, unaware that even greater trials are yet to come.
1. Lone Moon: The Light of Dawn

"Seteth," Byleth asked, handing a sheet of paper to her assistant. "Would you please deliver this report to Alois?"

"Of course, Your Grace," he agreed.

"Is there any update on potential candidates for professors for the Officers Academy?"

"So far, I have found five of our applicants to be promising enough to be moved forward," Seteth replied. "Shall I schedule interviews for next week?"

"Please do. And, one more thing-"

"If it isn't our young archbishop, overworking herself as usual," a new voice interrupted. Byleth turned to see her husband walking in.

"If it isn't our young king," she teased back with a kiss. "Far from Fhirdiad, as usual."

"A king can't come visit his queen while she's at work?" Dimitri grinned. "Especially after she delays her return home?"

"You, of all people, should understand having a long task list."

"I do, but I have also learned the beautiful concept that is _delegating_. Thanks to Felix's help, I was able to complete enough work to justify us making this trip."

"Us?" Byleth wondered. At that moment, a small voice cried out, and a yellow blur rushed towards Byleth, followed by a larger brown one.

"Your Highness!"

"Mama!"

"Jeralt!" Byleth gladly embraced her son. "It's so good to see you. And you as well, of course, Dedue."

"Your Grace," the guard nodded, bowing at the waist. He then turned to the boy. "Now, Your Highness, how many times do I have to tell you not to go running off?"

"Sorry, Dedue…" the young prince said with a sheepish smile.

The boy backed away and stood near his father. Prince Jeralt Rodrigue Blaiddyd, at six years old, no more resembled his namesakes than his mother did: he had his father's chin and thin blond hair, save for one green strand which matched his eyes. Those features alone identified him as Byleth's child, not simply a young clone of Dimitri himself.

"We've missed you, Mama," the young prince said.

"And I've missed you both, too," Byleth assured. "And I'm touched that you came all this way, but I'm afraid I don't have time to spend with you."

"But, Mama-"

"Now, hold a moment, Your Grace," Seteth interrupted. "It is true there is still work to be done, but His Majesty is accurate in how you have overworked yourself as of late. Whatever I cannot complete myself today, we can certainly complete together tomorrow. Our archbishop needs time with her family as much as anyone."

"Are you sure, Seteth?" Byleth asked.

"Enjoy yourself, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Seteth," the archbishop smiled. She turned to her family. "Luckily, you're just in time for lunch. Shall we see what's cooking in the dining hall?"

"Let's," Dimitri nodded.

The group made small talk as they made their way.

"So, how long are you here for?" Byleth asked her husband.

"Only a couple of days," the king answered. "Not only would Felix have my head for leaving him in charge of the castle for too long, the delegation from Almyra is arriving soon."

"That's right, the meeting to discuss terms of alliance, for the first time in either of our histories."

"Right," Dimitri nodded. "Which is why it is even more important that the queen be there to greet them. Not to mention Claude would likely pout to no end if his old 'Teach' weren't present."

"I will be," Byleth assured. "Seteth and I planned for this in advance. Thankfully, your trip saves the step of arranging a convoy to escort me back to the capital."

"Right. You know how much I respect your work in the church, but I do wish it wouldn't take you so far from home."

"As do I, love, but, I don't foresee the capital or the seat of the church getting closer together anytime soon."

"I know, I know."

"We'll make it work," Byleth said with a smile. "We always have. In the meantime, I thought we were taking the day off from worrying about all of that?"

"Right you are." Dimitri grinned. "Speaking of, I do believe I smell something scrumptious!"

"You can't smell anything, Papa," Jeralt teased. "The schedule says that Miss Dorothea cooked today, and the smell backs it up."

"Hush now, you," Byleth chided. "You'll hurt her feelings if she hears you."

Together, the family entered the dining hall and enjoyed the meal prepared by the young gremory, which ended up a lot tastier than any of them had expected. For the rest of the day, Byleth followed Dimitri as he showed their son around the monastery, including the Officer's Academy, which Jeralt was eagerly looking forward to attending one day. It warmed Byleth's heart to see the wonder in her son's eyes for the place she loved so much, the only place other than Castle Blaiddyd that she could call home. Being with her family was the only thing that could make Garreg Mach any more special in her eyes.

That night, Byleth smiled as she fell asleep, curled up beside her husband. Just before she drifted off, she felt the soft touch of Dimitri's lips on her cheek, parting to say, "Sleep well, my beloved."

Suddenly, Byleth found herself on Gronder Field. Talking around her were Claude von Riegan and Hilda Goneril, among others she recognized from the Golden Deer House. Beyond, she could just make out Edelgard retreating after the fierce battle between herself the other two armies, being chased by… Dimitri? Dedue was close on his heels.

_Dimitri, it's over_, Byleth wanted to scream, though her voice didn't sound. _This isn't the time!_ Her legs felt like weights, unwilling to move. She could just make out his one good eye from where she stood; it held that familiar, manic anger and hatred she had come to know after returning from her five-year slumber. Byleth knew that, in that state, he would not easily give up his pursuit of the emperor.

_Dimitri, stop!_

Before the prince even got five yards away from Edelgard, her guards surrounded him. Dedue continued his pursuit of his liege, but stopped short as the imperial soldiers drew their spears. Time began to slow as, before everyone, they plunged their blades into Dimitri's chest. He didn't move as the soldiers raised the spears once more to strike again, the light reflecting off the blood that dripped from the silver shafts.

_Dimitri!_

Byleth woke in a cold sweat, unable to hold back the shriek rising from her chest as she sat up.

"No, Dimitri!"

"Byleth, Byleth!" Dimitri cried, putting his arms around his wife, turning her to face him. "Darling, what's wrong?"

"Dimitri," Byleth gasped, burying her head in Dimitri's chest. "Oh, Dimitri. Dimitri, thank the goddess it was just a dream."

"Yes, it was just a dream," Dimitri assured, stroking Byleth's hair. "I'm here, it was just a dream."

"It was awful. We were back at Gronder, on that awful day… I… I was on the side of the Alliance. The battle was over, everyone was withdrawing, but you… you went after Edelgard.

"Before you even got close… you were surrounded and speared by her guards, right in front of Dedue, and everyone."

"Goddess above…" Dimitri frowned.

"I couldn't move, or even scream… I'm sorry, I don't know why a _dream _is affecting me so much."

"It was a horrible dream," Dimitri said. "It would bother anyone."

"It's just…when I think of losing you, what might have happened if I had led another house…"

"It's true that I shudder to think what might have happened to me if you hadn't been there to lead me out of the darkness. Thankfully, what could have been did not come to pass. We're here, together, in the peaceful nation we dreamed of. Nothing can change that.

"Know that I promise that I will always fight my hardest to stay by your side. You are the one who gave me reason to live other than revenge. You gave me hope, love, a family, and I will always be grateful for that, and do my best to honor it. I only ask that you promise the same."

"Always," Byleth assured with a smile, placing a hand on the right side of Dimitri's face. Her fingers brushed against the scar where his eye had been, which his eyepatch usually covered. That injury was the one story of his past that Dimitri refused to share with Byleth; to him, it was a symbol of his sins from the war and all that he had yet to atone for; to Byleth, it represented his strength, and how far he had come since she had returned to his life almost a decade ago. Looking at him, Byleth was always reminded of all the hope, faith, and love they shared, and she had no trouble committing herself completely to him. Silently, the two bent in for a kiss.

"Get some more sleep, now," Dimitri encouraged with one more caress. "Don't worry; I'll ward off any other nightmares."

Byleth smiled, knowing full well that it didn't quite work that way. Nevertheless, she felt reassured, and content to nestle back down, warm and secure in Dimitri's arms.


	2. Great Tree Moon: Dusk Falls

Three days later, the royal family and their retinue were en route back to Fhirdiad in Blaiddyd territory to prepare for the visiting dignitaries from Almyra. The sky was clear, and the air was unseasonably warm for the end of the Lone Moon. Dimitri led the charge alongside Dedue, with Byleth and Jeralt close behind.

Though the king gave off his usual confident exterior, on the inside, he worried. The nightmare that had woken Byleth earlier that week had repeated itself the previous night. Of course, he knew everyone had nightmares, but it was a rare occurrence for Byleth; or, at least, he had never known her to be so upset by one before. That, and the detail in which Byleth seemed to be able to recall this nightmare, as well as how possible it had once been for it to have come true… Dimitri hoped it wasn't a bad omen, or else a prophecy, brought on by the power which the goddess had bestowed upon Byleth.

The young king took comfort in the fact that his wife seemed in good spirits; she smiled as they advanced, sometimes letting Jeralt take the reins of her horse from where he sat in front of her. She kept up her usual friendly chatter with those around her.

_Perhaps I'm over thinking this, _Dimitri thought. _It's obviously bothering me much more than it is Byleth- but, then, she never has been one to bear her emotions for everyone to see, even with how much she's opened up since I've met her. _

Nevertheless, he decided to put the issue in the back of his mind for the moment. He had other things to be concerned with, after all; even though Claude had never been one for formalities, Dimitri still wanted to represent the Kingdom with dignity and respect during the Almyran king's visit. Most of the preparations had been completed before he and Jeralt had ventured to Garreg Mach, but there was still a considerable task list to take care of once they were back at the capital.

The journey from the monastery to Fhirdiad went without incident. Before long, the group had arrived back at Castle Blaiddyd, much to the relief of Felix. Though he was the king's right hand, the young duke detested being away from his own territory for too long. He claimed to attribute this to his duty as head of House Fraldarius, but it was well known that it was truly because he hated being away from his wife, Annette, and their children. Thus, it came as little surprise that Felix took his leave of the castle soon after his liege returned.

A few days later, the royal family stood together in the throne room to await their guests. Finally, the door opened, admitting a page.

"My king," he called with a bow. "Announcing their royal majesties King Claude and Queen Hilda von Riegan of Almyra."

The young man and woman processed into the room, followed by their retinue. Dimitri went to meet them halfway. Claude extended a hand to his former classmate. With one hand, Dimitri shook Claude's, and clapped him softly on the back with the other.

"Claude," Dimitri said with a smile. "It's good to have you back in Fódlan, even if only for a short time."

"Good to be back, Dimitri," the other replied. He looked over Dimitri's shoulder towards Byleth. "Good to see you again, Teach."

"Likewise, Claude," Byleth grinned.

"Hey," Hilda cried out in mock indignation. "I'm here, too, you know."

"Of course," Dimitri nodded, extending his hand to the pink-haired woman "It's good to see you again, too, Hilda. I'm so glad to welcome you here to Castle Blaiddyd. I hope that this can serve as the beginning of a long history of friendship between our nations. If there is anything at all we can do to make your stay here more comfortable, please do not hesitate to ask."

"You have our thanks for the warm welcome, Your Majesty." Claude gave a short half-bow. "But, please, you're sounding like my late grandfather. You know us; you don't have to be so uptight and formal. Isn't that right, Hilda?"

"Speak for yourself," Hilda replied. "I, for one, was looking forward to some pampering while we were here." She added that last part with a wink, however.

"Either way," Dimitri interjected. "You all must be hungry after your journey. Please, allow us to show you to the dining hall."

"Now you're talking," Claude smiled.

"Then, this way, by all means."

As the group made their way to the Grand Hall for the evening meal, they made small talk. After a while, Claude finally seemed to notice little Jeralt.

"Who's this now?" he asked, squatting to meet the child at eye level.

"Prince Jeralt, Your Majesty," the boy answered.

"Ah, so _you're_ the little tyke Teach has written so much to me about," Claude grinned, tousling Jeralt's hair playfully. "Should've guessed, from the green hair. By the way, no need for that 'Your Majesty' stuff around me. I'm just Claude."

"You have Lorenz to thank for that," Dimitri explained. "When Jeralt was born, he elected himself 'His Highness's personal etiquette and decorum tutor.'"

"That sounds like him, alright," Claude half-sighed, half-laughed. "You know, Jeralt, my own boy is about your age. He had to stay home for this trip, though. Maybe you'll get to meet him one day."

"I'd like that," Jeralt smiled. "What's his name?"

From then on and throughout the meal, Dimitri could see that Jeralt was excited to be included in the conversations between his parents and the visitors. It gave the king perspective on how he had disliked being told to keep quiet at state dinners, and how it likely made his son feel the same way; he'd have to remember that in the future.

That first night was more casual; it wasn't until the next afternoon that the more formal business started, and Dimitri found himself in meetings with and without Byleth. Though the Fódlan-Almyra alliance had long been agreed upon, and this liaison was more a formality and ceremonial than anything, there were still small details to iron out between the two sovereigns. It was the bureaucratic part of diplomacy that both were still mastering.

The group was all together in the roundtable room a couple of days later when a page burst in.

"Your Majesty," he cried. "A thousand apologies for interrupting, but I have grave news from House Fraldarius!"

"What has happened?" Dimitri demanded, standing.

"There was an attack on Arianrhod, Your Majesty," the page explained. "She is no more."

"What do you mean, 'she is no more?'" Claude stood as well. "Someone actually took the Silver Maiden?"

"The way the soldiers described it, the city was leveled by 'javelins of light,' raining down from the sky from seemingly nowhere. There were few survivors."

"'Javelins of light,'" Dimitri mused. "Who could have initiated such an attack?"

"The enemy has yet to reveal themselves, sire," the page answered. "Duke Fraldarius is on his way there now with Margrave Gautier to investigate. They request support from His Majesty, should there be any more attacks."

"And they will get it," Dimitri assured. "I'll round up several men, and we will march to meet Felix and Sylvain as soon as possible."

"We're coming, too," Claude declared. "Fódlan's enemies are Almyra's enemies."

"You have my thanks, Claude," Dimitri acknowledged with a curt nod. "Byleth, stay here with Jeralt. Prepare to evacuate the city should this unknown enemy attempt to take the capital, as well."

"Not a chance," the queen argued. "As archbishop of the Church, I have to meet any threats to Fódlan's peace head-on."

"As archbishop, and as queen," Dimitri refuted. "It is your duty to remain safe, to defend the peace by assuaging the fears of the people."

"I can't just stay here, not knowing what is going on."

"And what about Jeralt? Who's going to explain why his parents have both suddenly left?" He gritted his teeth to avoid raising his voice.

"I could watch Jeralt," Hilda offered.

"Not helping," Dimitri growled under his breath.

"We _could_ use Teach's expertise should this investigation turn into a battle," Claude reminded. "Besides, you should know better than anyone that she is fully capable of taking care of herself."

"Be that as it may-"

"Need I remind you," Byleth interrupted. "That, the longer we stand here arguing, the closer the enemy could be getting to the capital?"

Dimitri met Byleth's determined gaze with his own. It was true that he was well aware of his wife's abilities, but that did not negate his duty as her king and her husband to ensure her safety; the farther she was from any fighting, the better. And yet, he also knew that there was little he could do to sway her if her mind was made up.

"Promise not to do anything reckless?" He asked.

"Of course."

"Alright then. Let us be off."


	3. Great Tree Moon: Aid of a Deer

***AN: So, two things. One: spoiler alert for the Silver Snow, Crimson Flower, and Verdant Winds routes. Two: This is a re-upload. When re-reading some things and reviewing the story of the game, I realized that this had a continuity error XD.***

Byleth's mind raced as she rode with Dimitri and the others towards whatever remained of the fortress city of Arianrhod. Who had attacked it, and why? For the most part, Fódlan was on friendly terms with its immediate neighbors, such as Dagda, Albinea, and Brigid; not to mention the fact that, as a unified nation once more, the Kingdom was triple its previous size, including its military. Who would be so bold as to engage such a potentially formidable foe? No one that Byleth could think of, since Emperor Edelgard fell.

Most troubling was how little anyone knew of this enemy. Why hadn't they revealed themselves, raising a banner in victory after laying waste to the legendary Silver Maiden? Why hadn't the Kingdom's forces already met with their army already, advancing to take the capital next? And what were these "javelins of light" that had appeared, and how had their enemy conjured them?

Byleth's questions would have to be put on hold, however, as her party soon arrived at Arianrhod. The once proud city, known for its foreboding walls and iron defenses, now lay in ruins, ashes still smoldering where they lay amongst the rubble. Nearby, they saw a makeshift hospital made out of a tent, where clerics were tending to the wounded.

"It's even worse than I imagined," Dimitri remarked as he dismounted.

"This is just the tip of the iceberg, Your Majesty," a new voice chimed in. The king turned to see a stocky, well-groomed young man with long red hair.

"Sylvain," Dimitri acknowledged his friend. "Tell me, what's the report? Where is Felix?"

"Felix is out surveying the damage and looking for any other survivors. Only about a third of the city's residents were able to evacuate in time," the margrave described. "There apparently wouldn't have been time to evacuate at all, had there not been a warning at the last minute."

"A warning from whom?" Byleth wondered.

"That would be me."

A small, thin maiden with white hair and pink eyes approached the group. She acknowledged the archbishop with a curt bow.

"Lysithea." Byleth gasped. "How did you-?"

"It is a long story, Your Grace," the warlock began. "You see, after the war, I took up residence in Enbarr for some time for… reasons of my own. I was approached by a former envoy of the Empire one day with a message. Hubert, vassal to the late emperor, knew of my talent with magic, and thus desired to leave me some of his tomes and journals.

"These volumes included records of a group that the Imperial Army corroborated with in secret, a group that Hubert referred to as, 'Those Who Slither in the Dark.'"

"Those Who Slither in the Dark…" Dimitri repeated solemnly.

"Surely you remember Tomas and Monica, or, rather, Solon and Kronya, yes?"

"Of course," Byleth nodded. How could she forget those she had watched kill her father, _twice?_

"They were a part of that group," Lysithea explained. "Though they worked with Edelgard and the Empire, apparently they had separate goals of their own, which included the abduction of Flayn and the Demonic Beasts' attack on the chapel all those years ago. They are the only ones capable of dark arts such as what occurred here."

"That still doesn't explain how you knew this would happen," Byleth pointed out.

"When you study black magic and other dark arts as much as I have, you become attuned to them, both mentally and physically. I sensed the energy of these so-called 'javelins of light' targeting Arianrhod, and came as quickly as I could to warn those here. I only wish I could have gotten here sooner, to have saved more lives."

"You did the best you could," Dimitri assured. "And in so doing, have done a great service to the Kingdom, as well as provided us valuable information about our enemy. You have my gratitude for that."

"Anything to see these vermin extinguished," Lysithea decreed.

"You speak as if you have personal experience with these guys," Sylvain noted.

"Oh!" Lysithea jumped. "Well, I mean… that is…Um... May I speak to the prof- er, Her Grace in private?"

Dimitri glanced at Byleth, as if to ask if she knew what was going on, or if she would be alright speaking alone with Lysithea. Byleth shrugged, then nodded at Lysithea, leading her some feet away from the others, but still within eyesight.

"Forgive me, Profess- I mean, Your Grace," Lysithea stuttered. "I… this is not something that I share with many people. But, if you are going up against those who slither in the dark, perhaps you need to know, and I trust you the most out of anyone from the Kingdom."

"I want to respect your privacy, and will exercise discretion," Byleth assured. "But, if what you share with me is important enough, I _will _need to tell the king."

"I understand," Lysithea agreed. "Okay, so here goes. I _have _had experience with those who slither in the dark. When I was a child, they imprisoned my siblings and me. They performed experiments on us… forbidden experiments, involving Crests."

"Crests?"

"They are obsessed with them, and using their power to further their own goals. As a result of their experiments, all of the children that they used as subjects… either died of illness, or else were driven to insanity… except for me."

"Goddess above…"

"I was among their only successes," Lysithea went on. "One day, I awoke, and my hair had turned white, as it is now, and… I bore two Crests."

"_Two _Crests?" Byleth exclaimed. "I didn't think such a thing was possible."

"By all natural means, it isn't," Lysithea nodded. "They were able to implant my Crests by way of blood reconstruction surgery. As a consequence… my lifespan was shortened, and I've been of weak constitution ever since."

Byleth was reminded of a conversation she had once had with Lysithea, just after she had received Sothis's power. _Bearing great power can put much strain on the body…_

"I went to Enbarr because I had heard they had developed methods of reversing the effects of the surgery," the girl went on. "In the end, I am still weak, and I remain on borrowed time, but that time is much more than it once was."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Byleth wondered. She was amazed that Lysithea, a student from a house she hadn't taught, was comfortable enough to be so vulnerable and open with her.

"Because I don't want you to underestimate what these people are capable of," Lysithea answered. "What they are willing to do to achieve their aims. May it also serve as proof of what I say, and my resolve to see these villains destroyed."

"The king and I will not rest until this threat is eliminated," Byleth promised. "I vow by my authority in the church."

"I am grateful. In truth, I hope to do more to help the cause. In Hubert's tomes, he described a method to trace the origin of the dark energy behind the javelins of light."

"Is it something you are able to perform?"

"I have already made an attempt," Lysithea answered. "Given time, I may be able to refine it, but, for now, I can only say that it came from underground, near the lands of Goneril in former Alliance territory. I can draw a rough outline on a map, if you'd like."

"That is a great help, thank you," Byleth sighed. Perhaps this whole event could be over with quickly.

"There is one more thing you should know."

"What is that?"

"Hubert claimed that many of the enemy's goals have to do with getting revenge on 'the children of the goddess.' He did not go into further detail, and I do not know what that means, but I can't help but feel like it has something to do with you and Lady Rhea."

"Me?"

"That is another reason I wished to tell this only to you," Lysithea explained. "I know that you are among the only people who are aware of where Lady Rhea is these days. I do not wish to bring undue attention to her or to yourself, should my theory prove to be incorrect."

"I appreciate your discretion," Byleth assured. "And all this information is extremely helpful. Now, we should return to the others."

"Of course, Your Grace."

Felix joined the group as Byleth and Lysithea did. Being careful with her words, Byleth gave the abridged version of the information Lysithea had given her. After she had finished, they all took a moment to process everything.

"The men we brought were prepared for defensive measures," Dmitri finally said. "We would need greater numbers to make any attempt on the enemy stronghold, should we pinpoint their position."

"Not to mention we still don't know what we're up against," Felix added. "Just who. And we know from experience that they aren't too be taken lightly."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Sylvain agreed, rotating his shoulder. "I can still sometimes feel where that Death Knight got me all those years ago."

"Don't be dramatic, Sylvain."

"Perhaps this situation calls for a visit to the monastery," Byleth suggested. "It would serve us well to raise the Knights of Seiros while we arrange for more Kingdom soldiers to join us- not to mention its favorable location."

"A good idea," Dimitri commended.

"I'll contact Lord Holst to get the ball rolling on searching for any clues as to where our friends may be hiding," Claude offered. "Heh. Didn't think I'd be headed back east so soon."

"Hate to be a downer," Felix countered. "But, what's keeping the enemy from launching another attack like this one while we're getting things ready? It could be the capital this time."

"According to Hubert's notes,with the amount of energy necessary for that attack, it is impossible to use it more than once in a short span of time," Lysithea explained. "We can spare the time to get ready."

"We're trusting intel from a dead Imperial lapdog?"

"Hubert studied and worked with those who slither in the dark for years," Byleth argued. "No doubt he had planned to use this information himself had the Empire won the war. I feel we can trust it. It falls to us to see this through. At this point, what other option do we have?"

No one had an answer to that. Satisfied, Byleth prepared to lead the party back to Garreg Mach, to begin training for potentially the longest campaign any of them had seen since the end of the war.

***AN: Sorry this chapter was a little dialogue and exposition-heavy. I promise that things will pick up in the next chapter. In the meantime, thank you for following, favoriting, and reviewing!* **


	4. Harpstring Moon: Falling Star

***AN: So, yeah, another re-upload. I discovered yet another continuity error, which is mostly due to the fact that Azure Moon was the first route I completed, and I've forgotten things since playing almost all three of the other routes since... thanks to reader The Apocryphal One for pointing it out!***

Over a month passed before Dimitri felt satisfied with the preparations for the oncoming attack on the stronghold of those who slither in the dark, which they had discovered was called Shambhala. Not only had the Knights of Seiros and additional Kingdom soldiers joined the growing numbers at Garreg Mach, Claude had arranged for several men from Almyra to meet the company on the day of the attack.

With a week left in the Harpstring Moon, their combined forces began their easternly march. Clouds looming overhead threatened a possibly early start to the rainy season. Of course, this would not cause much problem either way, as the upcoming battle was to take place underground. Dimitri and his allies found the entrance to Shambhala just where Lysithea had deduced it would be: in a crevice in the easternmost mountains within Fódlans borders. The corridor was camouflaged into the rock, so that one could only find it if they were specifically searching for it.

Dimitri hesitated before leading the group down the foreboding steps. He turned towards Byleth. "You ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she nodded, her face rigid in determination. "This ends today."

With that, the king motioned for the troops to advance. Descending into the city, all were silent as they took in their surroundings. The architecture of Shambhala was unlike anything seen in Fódlan or Almyra. Somehow, it appeared ancient, yet advanced at the same time. Finally, the company was met with enemy troops in a large corridor. They were led by a warlock with deathly pale skin and dark black hair, brandishing a silver sword. His face was marred by marks that resembled scars, and at the same time wrinkles. If memory served, Dimitri recognized this man as the one called Myson, who had been present in the imperial palace during the final battle of the war, but had fled after Edelgard was defeated.

"Pitiful beasts who serve the goddess," he greeted. "How kind of you to so foolishly come to our own domain to be slain."

"We are not the beasts," Byleth retorted. "And we shall see just who will fall upon the other's blade today."

"As you wish." Myson gave a wicked sneer. "Agarthans, attack! But leave the Fell Star to me!"

And thus the battle began. Both sides advanced, blade meeting blade in chaotic rhythm. Despite his best efforts, Dimitri quickly lost sight of Byleth in the midst of the fray. Just above the din of battle cries and metal meeting metal, he could hear her calling out orders. Easily striking down his enemies with Areadbhar, he held his own, but he was partially distracted by what Myson had called Byleth.

_Fell Star._

He had heard her be called that once before, by Solon. It was when the Blue Lions had gone up against him and Kronya to avenge Jeralt's death, and the dark mage had sent the professor to a realm of darkness using a forbidden spell. What did it mean? Why did it seem that these people were so obsessed with her? It seemed to go beyond the fact that she held the power of the goddess.

Before he could ponder that, however, he noticed just how close to the center of the field he had come. His allies were holding fast as they advanced towards the enemy commander. But, it seemed that their own commander had beat them to it. Unaware of anything besides the adversary before her, Byleth crossed blades with Myson.

Dimitri was about to go aid his wife, when Myson suddenly retreated several steps back. Byleth took the opportunity to catch her breath and ready her next strike. But, in the blink of an eye, Myson had raised one hand, sending a surge of dark energy towards Byleth. The attack met its mark, and the young woman fell onto her back, unprepared for the blow.

"_Byleth!" _Dimitri cried. She lay motionless, unresponsive to her husband. Anger overtook his fear, however, and he lunged towards Myson. "You'll die for that!"

Surprised by the newcomer, Myson was barely able to raise his sword in time to deflect Areadbhar. They crossed blades several times, only rarely landing a hit.

"Your efforts are futile," Myson taunted. "We _will _succeed in cleansing this world of the vermin who have long ruled it, so that we may finally rise again to glory."

"Not a chance," Dimitri growled. He found an opening in the other's defenses. Immediately, he plunged Areadbhar into the villain's side, forcing him to his knees, gasping for breath.

"You're too late," Myson choked out between strangled laughs. "We've already… won."

With that, the Agarthan's eyes rolled to the back of his head and closed, the man falling still as what little color remained drained from his face. Dimitri only allowed a moment to relish in his victory before returning his attention to his wife. She remained motionless, gasping for breath where she lay on the ground.

"Byleth!" Dimitri knelt by her side and gently took hold of her. "Byleth…"

"Dimitri…" his wife gasped. "I'm-so-sorry…"

"No, no, don't talk like that. You'll be alright, you'll see. Just stay with me, Byleth."

Dimitri cast a rudimentary healing spell on Byleth, the only magic he knew. He inwardly kicked himself for not having paid closer attention to lectures on faith back in the academy.

"Dimitri…" Shakily, Byleth's hand reached for the chain around Dimitri's neck, and the ring he wore there for safe keeping during battle. Her thumb grazed the delicate silver band, and its purple and pink gemstones.

Byleth had told Dimitri the story behind this ring; it had belonged to her mother, and it became Jeralt's when she died. Jeralt then left it to Byleth, with the hope that she would give it to someone she loved as much as he had loved his wife. The ring held lifetimes' worth of memories, and the love of two generations. Knowing that story, as well as knowing Byleth, was how Dimitri understood what she was saying without speaking a word.

She was asking him, pleading with him to stay strong, and not to close off his heart after she was gone, to be open to love again the way she loved him. But, how could he? How could he ever love another the way he loved Byleth? How could he _live_ without his friend, his mentor, his everything...

"Byleth, I…"

"I love you, Dimitri…"

Dimitri watched in horror as Byleth's eyes rolled back, slowly closing.

"Byleth? Byleth, please, no! No!"

Desperately, he took her hand and put his ear to her face, praying for a pulse, a breath, anything. He had long known that Byleth's own heart did not beat, but still… There. Ever so faint, air brushed past his ear. Her breaths were haggard and shallow, but she was alive.

"Dedue!" Dimitri called. The knight was soon by his side, gasping at the sight of his queen. "I have to get Byleth to safety. Can you hold the line while I retreat, and cover my tail?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Dedue answered. "But- wait, Your Majesty!"

Dimitri hadn't spared a moment before scooping Byleth into his arms and running through the foray, running interference with Areadbhar. The battle had slowed considerably; no doubt it would soon end in a victory for the Kingdom's forces, now that the enemy commander was dead. But, Dimitri couldn't think of that now; he could only think of returning to the surface, and finding help for his dying wife.

Once he was above ground again, Dimitri used the direction of the setting sun to guide his path back to the monastery. In his single-minded pursuit of aid, he abandoned all reason, all sense, and simply continued running as adrenaline began coursing through his veins.

He hadn't gotten far before he heard a voice cry out, "Hey, Your Kingliness!"

Dimitri turned to see Claude atop his white wyvern, coming just short of landing. "Hop on!"

"Thank you." Without argument, he quickly mounted behind Claude, and they were soon airborne.

"Is Teach going to be okay?" Claude dared to ask.

Dimitri didn't have the courage to give an honest answer to that. He simply repeated his healing spell, grateful for every rise and fall of Byleth's chest.

_Goddess, let us get help in time._

***AN: Thanks again to The Apocryphal One for pointing out my silly mistake in this chapter! I appreciate any and all feedback and story corrections I get! I am so grateful for all the positive responses I have had to this story so far, and can't wait to continue it. Until next time, thank you for favoriting, following, and reviewing!***


	5. Garland Moon: Pool of Tears

Dimitri threw open the doors of the monastery, not waiting to see if Claude would decide to follow him to make sure Byleth was taken care of, or return to the battle.

"Cleric!" he yelled. "I need a cleric!"

His cries were soon answered by Mercedes, his former classmate and a current resident of the monastery.

"Oh, goodness," she exclaimed upon seeing the state that the archbishop was in. "Her Grace! Let us not waste time taking her upstairs; come, let us use one of the academy dormitories."

As the Officer's Academy had still yet to reopen, its dormitories were all vacant. Mercedes called out orders to other clerics as Dimitri led her to the room Byleth had used when she was a professor. Not a moment after he had laid Byleth on the bed, Mercedes began intermittently praying and casting healing spells, while the other clerics administered salves and other medicines. Dimitri was grateful that, through all of this, no one bid him let go of his wife's hand. One by one, the priestesses finished their work and left the room, bowing to the king as they departed. Soon, only Mercedes was left.

"We have done all that we can for now," she sighed.

"Will she live?" Dimitri asked.

"It is too soon to tell. Her outer wounds will likely heal with time, but it is harder to assess the internal damage caused by the dark magic. Other than taking care that her wounds don't fester and cause fever, it's up to her and the goddess now."

"I thank you for all you have done."

"It is only my duty, Your Majesty," Mercedes assured. "I will continue to pray for Her Grace, and be here to help in any way I can. She is strong, and I have faith that she will recover, if the goddess is willing. That said… Prince Jeralt is still with Hilda in the capital, yes?"

"Yes, he is," Dimitri confirmed.

"I might send for him, and sooner rather than later. It may be wise to… to prepare him, should the worst happen."

The words sunk like a rock in Dimitri's heart. He knew that Mercedes wasn't trying to be hurtful, and that she had a point, but still… In the chaos, he had not yet considered what impact this would have on his son. He knew from experience what it was like to lose family at such a young age. How would he explain things to poor Jeralt, still so young and naive? He did not look forward to it, but it had to be done.

"You are right," he finally said. "I'll arrange it shortly."

After one more moment of silence, Mercedes bowed to Dimitri and took her leave.

* * *

Hours turned into days without Byleth showing any sign of waking. All the while, Dimitri rarely left her side, helping the clerics care for her where he could. Before long, the troops returned from Shambhala, eager to learn the fate of the young queen. Among her first visitors was Seteth.

"It's true, then," he sighed, frowning at seeing Byleth's condition. "After all this time, they would still come back to take yet another of our own."

"'Another of our own?'" Dimitri wondered. "What do you mean?"

"There is much you do not know about Her Grace."

"And I suppose you do?"

"I do. Rhea once told me everything she knew about Byleth. However, my fragmented retelling may serve to be more confusing to you than if it came from the source. If you truly wish to know all, I would send for her."

"I'll consider that." In truth, Dimitri wondered if it much mattered now, since the enemy was no more. Besides that, maybe he and Byleth were better off not knowing. He had other things to consider.

The same day that the troops returned, Hilda arrived with Jeralt. After he was helped down from Hilda's wyvern, the boy ran to meet his father, who stood at the front door to the monastery.

"Papa!" he cried, throwing his arms around Dimitri. "Did you win? Were you awesome?"

"Yes to both," his father answered, mustering a half-smile.

"Where's Mama?" Jeralt was yet unaware of what had happened to Byleth, as Dimitri had instructed no one to tell him until he was able to himself.

"Jeralt," Dimitri started with a sigh. "Mama got hurt in battle. Pretty bad."

"How bad?"

"Bad enough where she has to stay in bed for a while."

"Can I see her?" Jeralt's eyes were round with worry, his usually smiling face turned to a frown.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Dimitri shook his head. "Mama needs her rest."

"But, Papa-"

"I'm sorry, Jeralt. You'll see her soon, I promise. For now, why don't you go get something to eat? I'll be right behind you."

Reluctantly, the boy turned to go inside and make his way to the dining hall. With a sigh, Dimitri addressed Hilda and Claude, who had just arrived to meet his wife.

"You have my thanks for watching over him," Dimitri said.

"Don't even worry about it." Hilda shook her head. "So… how is she, really?"

"About the same. She still hasn't woken, but, other than that, she hasn't taken a turn for the worse."

"That's good at least, right?" Claude said encouragingly. "Teach is one of the strongest people I know. No way she'll let this get the best of her."

"I hope you are right," Dimitri sighed. "In the meantime, let us go and put on a brave face, for Jeralt's sake."

The coming days brought with them the showers that were customary for the time of year. The cloudy, gray skies matched the mood of those in the monastery; it was as if the earth itself knew what had befallen the archbishop, and was grieving just as Dimitri and the others were.

One day, Dimitri found Jeralt in the cathedral, sitting in a pew with his head bowed.

"So, this is where you've been." At the sound of his father's voice, Jeralt rose his head.

"I've been praying for Mama," he explained.

"That's a good lad," Dimitri mustered as much of a smile as he could. These days, faith was one of the only things keeping him sane; it gave him comfort to know that he could give up at least part of his burdens and worries to someone greater than he. "May I join you?"

"Of course."

The two were quiet for a bit, both solemn in their reflection and prayer. Finally, Jeralt spoke up.

"Papa?" he asked.

"Yes, son?"

"Is Mama going to die? Is that what will happen if she doesn't get better?"

"Where did you hear that?" Dimitri wondered.

"I hear what people say when they think I'm not in the room," Jeralt explained. "But, I don't know what that means, or why no one will tell me what's happening."

This was the conversation Dimitri had been putting off since Jeralt had arrived at the monastery. He knew that it would come up one day, but he had counted on Byleth being there to help explain things; he had never considered that Byleth would be the one the conversation would be about.

"It's true that it's possible that Mama won't wake up," he began hesitantly. "She hasn't gotten much better in the last few days.

"One day, it might turn out that her body is just too weak. If that happens, her body will stay here, but her soul will go to be with the goddess, where she will never hurt or get sick ever again."

"Her soul?" Jeralt wondered.

"That means her spirit, what makes her the way she is. The body is just something that holds the soul until the time comes for a person to be with the goddess."

"But doesn't Mama want to stay with us?"

"Oh, Jeralt, of course she does," Dimitri assured. "She loves us all very much, but… sometimes, we don't get to decide that. But, know that she is fighting her very hardest to come back to us."

Jeralt was silent for a moment, staring at the floor. A single tear trickled down his cheek, and he threw his arms around Dimitri before the sobs began. Dimitri embraced his son back as tightly as he dared without hurting him.

"I know," he assured, reaching up to stroke Jeralt's hair. "Believe me, I know."

Dimitri sat there and simply let Jeralt cry as long as he needed to, unsure of anything else he could say. Finally, Jeralt's tears seemed to slow, and he backed away to look up at his father.

"There now," Dimitri sighed, wiping one of Jeralt's eyes. "Mama would want us to be strong, and do our best to smile for her."

"I want to see her," Jeralt declared.

"I think that's a good idea."

Later that afternoon, Dimitri took Jeralt to Byleth's room. The boy was startled to see his mother at first so pale and frail-looking, surrounded by clerics attending to her. Dimitri put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, leading him closer to her bedside.

"Hi, Mama," Jeralt said tentatively. "It's me. I hope you're feeling better. I brought you something."

In his hands, the boy held several white roses, woven together by a delicate strand.

"It's a garland, just like in the stories you tell me. I know boys don't usually make them, but I thought you might like it."

"I'm sure she loves it," Dimitri assured.

Shyly, Jeralt stood on his tiptoes to put the small wreath atop his mother's head. Once he was done,he stepped back and took one of Byleth's hands in her own. A single tear escaped his eye as he said a silent prayer.

_May all be well, that Byleth may pick roses with our son this time next year,_ Dimitri prayed himself.


	6. Blue Sea Moon: Rebirth

***AN: Oh my gosh! Thank you all so much for 1000+ views in under a week! You guys are so amazing! I hope this chapter, and the rest of the story, lives up to and honors your awesomeness and kindness!***

Weeks went by slowly. After Jeralt's visit, Byleth seemed to improve in some ways, but worsen in others. Dimitri felt helpless, unable to do much to aid his wife. He was reminded by Seteth that the annual Rite of Rebirth was coming up. Obviously, the archbishop was in no condition to perform it. It made him wonder just what would happen to the church if Byleth weren't to recover. Thinking she had plenty of time, she had yet to name a successor; just one more thing that would be affected if she passed on.

Dimitri only left Byleth's side to manage what political affairs he could remotely. When he wasn't arguing with Felix over budgets or some such over written correspondence, he was doing whatever the clerics asked of him, including guiding Byleth's arms and legs in exercises that would prevent her muscles from getting stiff from lack of use. At night, he slept in a chair beside the bed.

One night, he was awoken by low voices murmuring. It was the tense tone that startled him the most. He opened his eyes to see Mercedes bent over Byleth, a cold damp cloth in her hand.

"What's happened?" he demanded.

"She's developed a fever," the cleric answered ruefully. "I was afraid that this might happen. Here; keep this on her head while I go fetch more water."

Dimitri quickly switched places with Mercedes, taking the cloth from her hand. He diligently dabbed it across Byleth's forehead, beaded with sweat. Close up, he could hear that her breathing had quickened, and her face was contorted, as if she were in pain.

"Dimitri…" she suddenly murmured, startling Dimitri. Did she really know he was there? Was the fever causing her to hallucinate? What was going through her head?

"I'm here, Byleth," he said, voice shaking. "I'm right here. Always right here. Please stay strong. We need you."

Soon, Mercedes had returned with more water, as well as a cup of herbal tea. Dimitri gently lifted Byleth to a sitting position and placed the cup between her lips, tipping it until he could tell she had swallowed. After a few more swipes of the cloth, Byleth seemed to calm down considerably.

"We'll need to keep close watch until it breaks completely," Mercedes explained. "You can get some more rest now, if you need to, Your Majesty."

"No," Dimitri shook his head. "I couldn't sleep now."

"Alright then. In a couple of hours, we will want to give her some more tea. In the meantime, I will get fresh bandages. Keep the cloth and water close at hand."

"Of course."

As Mercedes opened and closed the door behind her, Dimitri saw that the sun was just rising. How he missed watching dawn break over the horizon together with Byleth from the balcony of their chambers at Castle Blaiddyd. Would they ever be able to return to those days? Was there really any chance of Byleth recovering, or was this fever a sign of the beginning of the end?

He returned to his seat, taking Byleth's hand in his own.

"The last thing I want is for you to continue suffering," Dimitri told her. "But, I don't know if I'm strong enough to face this world, or to raise our son on my own. You are my light. Please come back to us, if you are able."

Perhaps it was only in his mind, but Dimitri thought that, for a moment, he had felt Byleth squeeze his hand.

* * *

"I grow tired of having this conversation with you."

The voice barely registered with Byleth, piercing through the murky darkness which seemed to envelop her. Whose voice was it? Where had she heard it before?

"You certainly can't have forgotten about me," the voice admonished. "Honestly, you are such a child sometimes. When will you learn to better fend for yourself? Or am I doomed to bring you back from the brink again and again until your proper time comes?"

This wasn't her time? She felt halfway dead already, weighed down and sluggish. So, so tired…

"Of course it's not. You still have much to do. You should know as well as I."

Of course it would be her voice. Who else had ever spoken to her in such a manner, as if she knew Byleth better than anyone else, yet still treated her as if she were an ignorant child?

_Sothis_.

"How interesting that you always seem to be so eager to fight, until you wear yourself thin. Do you have no value for your own life? Is the world so cruel to you that you would lie here and abandon everyone who hold you dear?"

She always knew just how to strike her nerves. Of course she didn't want to leave her family, or her friends, or shirk her duties. Yet it was true that she had done little to honor the promise she had made to Dimitri. So many times, she had thrown herself into battle, thinking only of winning, not what losing would cost everyone around her. She had so much to live for, yet she was always willing to throw that away for their sake.

"Your intentions are noble," Sothis agreed. "Yet, intentions don't mean much if you aren't there to see them through. It is true that there are things worth dying for, but that doesn't mean you should make a mindless martyr of yourself. You don't have to stop fighting, but at least be smart about it."

How was it that Sothis could be so wise and insulting all at once? As grateful as Byleth was for her guidance, it could be quite irksome.

"I only irk you because you know I'm right. Now go."

Out of nowhere, Byleth could just make out a faint sound… Was it music? Singing?

"Your family is waiting for you."

Light broke out of the darkness, coming from the same direction as the melody Byleth heard. Without hesitation, Byleth reached towards it.

* * *

The weather had taken a pleasant turn. Dimitri had decided to keep the door open to let in some fresh air. The cool, gentle breeze came in, rustling Byleth's hair ever so slightly. After the fever scare a couple of days before, she was finally regaining some color to her face. She had an almost content look on her face.

"You're looking well today." Dimitri smiled, taking his usual seat before picking up Byleth's hand, gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "The best I've seen you in a while.

"I'm reminded of the times we would go out and look at the wildflowers. We would picnic in the fields, and you'd stroke Jeralt's hair as he fell asleep in your lap. You would sing the most beautiful lullaby. How did it go again? Ah, I remember. Er, if you'll pardon my singing voice…

"Lavender's green,

Dilly-dilly-dilly-dilly,

Lavender's blue.

You must love me,

Dilly-dilly-dilly-dilly,

For I love you."

As Dimitri sang, Byleth's eyelids stirred ever so slightly, imperceptible to him at that moment.

"Lavender's blue,

Dilly-dilly-dilly-dilly,

Lavender's green.

When I am king,

Dilly-dilly-dilly-dilly,

Then you shall be queen."

A small moan escaped from Byleth's , Dimitri looked more closely at her face. He watched as her eyes began to open, slowly and groggily.

"Byleth," he gasped. "Byleth! Dedue!"

The knight, stationed just outside the door, ran in at his liege's call.

"Byleth is waking up," Dimitri told him. "Get Mercedes immediately."

"Right away, Your Majesty," Dedue quickly recovered from his own surprise, barely taking the time to bow before running back out the door. As soon as he was gone, Dimitri turned back to Byleth, eyes gradually opening wider.

"Byleth," he said, not taking his gaze off of her for a moment. "Byleth, can you hear me?"

Byleth moaned once more, blinking a few times. Finally, her eyes were wide open, and she seemed to register her surroundings.

"Dimitri…?" she said groggily.

"Byleth." Dimitri let out something between a laugh and a sigh. He used his free hand to gently caress the side of Byleth's face. "Oh, Byleth, thank the goddess you're back with us."

"What happened? Where am I?"

"You're safe, back at the monastery. You were hit pretty hard during the battle in Shambhala."

Byleth suddenly jumped a little, eyes wide as if she had just remembered something.

"Tell me it hasn't been five years again," she pleaded.

"It hasn't been five years." Dimitri did his best to stifle a laugh. "It has barely been more than that many weeks."

"_Weeks?_" To Dimitri's horror, Byleth began trying to lift herself into a sitting position.

"Easy, now," he said, supporting her back and helping her rest against the backboard. He propped up some pillows behind her. As she moved, Byleth groaned.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sluggish," Byleth answered, putting a hand to her head. "And a bit like I was run over by a pack of wild boars."

"Well, Mercedes is on her way," Dimitri assured. "She'll be able to help with that."

As if on cue, an excited gasp was heard from the doorway. The couple turned to see the cleric, hands clasped together near her smiling face.

"Your Grace," she sighed. "It is so good to see you awake."

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," Byleth said with a wry smile.

"Not at all, Your Grace. Now, let's see what's left to be done to get you back on your feet."

Throughout the examination, Dimitri couldn't take his eyes off of Byleth's, almost not daring to believe that this was real. Byleth was awake. She was alive. Now that she was back, everything would be well, he had no doubt.

***Thank you again for the positive response to this story! Rest assured that this is not the end. However, this may mark a break from the one-chapter-a-day schedule, at least for a while. In the meantime, have a good Labor Day weekend, and thank you for favoriting, following, and reviewing!***


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